The night we met
by bleachedinubasket
Summary: There were very few chances for Ichigo and Rukia to explore whatever the hell their relationship was. One consistency was that it always seemed to develop under times of stress – so what happens now that they should be settled and happily married to other people?
1. Chapter 1

**The night we met**

There were very few chances for Ichigo and Rukia to explore whatever the hell their relationship was. One consistency was that it always seemed to develop under times of stress – so what happens now that they should be settled and happily married to other people? IR

* * *

Chapter 1

A sunny fall day greeted Ichigo this morning. A soft flowery smell lingered in the sheets and he wondered what new detergent was used this time. His eyes flickered open, and fell onto a figure that was familiar yet unexpected. Long black hair spread across the white sheets, her porcelain cheek resting on his arm and her arm draped carelessly across his chest. Rukia? She shuffled in her sleep and rested a hand wearing a quaint teardrop shaped diamond engagement ring by her face. He reached out to touch her face, and the woman's eyes opened slowly.

"Good morning," she said with a soft smile. She can smile like that?

Rukia cuddled in closer, her bare large breasts – large?

"Rukia?" He asked, looking down at the figure in his arms.

Ichigo felt himself being gently shaken and he woke once again with a jump.

"Are you okay?" Inoue asked, a face of concern gracing her beautiful features.

Ichigo had to take a moment to orient himself to his surroundings.

"Is it another nightmare?" Inoue inquired, then leaning in to kiss Ichigo on the cheek. Her bare skin touched his so nonchalantly, and she rested herself on his chest. "It's safe now, there's nothing to be afraid of."

Ichigo let go of a deep sigh and surveyed the ring on her finger: a standard square diamond. Inoue was never one for fancy shows of affection, even when asked about her thoughts on an engagement ring. He felt strange underneath his wife, the dream lingered in his thoughts and he couldn't deny the excited – nervous – thrum in his chest.

_Shit_. He thought, and he proceeded to remove himself from under Inoue. Married men don't dream about married women. Ichigo decided to take a cold shower, hoping to wake himself back to reality. He rarely had dreams, but when he did they had an annoying habit of repeating. _Just ignore it, _he thought, and he attempted to focus on the cold droplets pelting his body.

Inoue pulled on her pyjamas and then sat on their freshly made bed. She listened to the shower running and felt distant from her husband. He had said her name again in his sleep. In the past, whenever Rukia's name came up it would be in a scream, followed by Ichigo tossing and turning in cold sweats. Inoue was always patient, waking him whenever it happened and soothing him gently. In all instances, it ended with them having intense sex. But these days, mornings were much like this. Inoue had even opted to sleeping partially naked hoping to stir some reaction in him, but so far, nothing.

"Mommy!" Their 6 year old, Kazui, exclaimed, "The ghost from earlier said you should sleep naked more often!"

Inoue turned intensely red, forgetting that her son was privy to such information because of the spirits that always lingered near Ichigo. She made a mental note of speaking to Rukia about possibly putting up wards to prevent any more from entering the house.

"Can I sleep naked too?" Kazui asked innocently as he climbed onto the bed beside his mother.

"You'll catch a cold if you do," Ichigo responded, fresh out of the shower in a white t-shirt and black dress pants.

"But if mommy gets to do it, I should too!" Kazui pouted, clinging to his mother's arm.

"Mommy's an adult, she can do what she wants," Ichigo replied, ruffling Kazui's orange hair as he passed.

There was a silence as Kazui processed the information and Ichigo fiddled with his tie.

"I bet Ichika's parents let her sleep naked!"

Ichigo let out a laugh, and Inoue giggled.

"I doubt that honey," Inoue responded, fixing his hair. "Let's go get ready for school now." Inoue hoisted Kazui up and they exited the room together.

_Rukia sleeping naked?_ Ichigo rolled his eyes and mentally pictured smacking his hollow in the face.

* * *

The captain of the 13th division neatly packed her things and tidied her desk. The promotion was a massive change for Rukia, and she sometimes found herself in awe of it all. Little routines like tidying her office helped her transition from Captain Kuchiki to Rukia Kuchiki. She took a quick look at her phone to see if her husband replied to anything she texted to him during the day, and found nothing. The man was always a terrible communicator. She wondered why he would change once they lived under the same roof. Her phone buzzed, she took a quick look and was pleasantly surprised by a text from Ichigo.

_Still on for drinks?_

_You bet._ Rukia replied, snapping her phone shut with a smile.

She then removed her captain's robe and placed it around the back of the chair. For some reason, she didn't ever feel comfortable wearing it outside of work. She especially didn't like to wear the garb when picking up her daughter, Ichika. *-

Ichika beamed at the sight of her mother. She bowed respect fully before jumping into her arms. Rukia smiled in return, the girl, now 8 years old, was getting high praise from her teachers. She had an affinity for kido – just like her mother, and the brute strength of her father.

"Mother, I wonder if we're seeing uncle this week?" Ichika asked.

"What for?" Rukia inquired, dusting the child's robes.

"I want to show him the new kido I learned!" Ichika exclaimed. "Maybe I can even show Kazui? He doesn't go to school for this stuff."

Rukia laughed, "How thoughtful of you, Ichika. But not this week, both are busy with their own things, as you know."

Ichika nodded, she thoughtfully looked ahead of her.

"Mother," Ichika started.

"Yes darling?" Rukia replied.

"You're seeing Uncle Ichigo today aren't you?" Ichika asked, "Is papa going too?"

Rukia shook her head, "It'll be you and Papa for dinner tonight."

Ichika stuck out her tongue, "But he cooks terribly, mother!"

They arrived at the large house, an extension of the main house that Byakuya lived in. Rukia was surprised to find Renji in the living room across a large vase of flowers.

Ichika beamed at the sight, and eagerly greeted her father. "Are the flowers for me?" She asked gleefully.

"They're for your mother," Renji replied, easily picking Ichika up. "As an apology," Renji looked hopefully at Rukia.

"Whatever are you apologizing for?" Rukia asked, her captain's voice resounding.

"Uh- you know, the stuff you texted me about." Renji replied.

Rukia sighed, and Ichika recognized it to be the sigh of a looming fight. Ichika climbed down from her father's arms, patting him pitifully, and then running up to her room.

"Renji, can't you even be bothered to know why we're fighting?" Rukia asked in an exasperated manner, arms crossed.

"Look, see this as an apology for all the fights, okay? It feels like there's been tons, and I'll be honest – I have no clue what I'm doing to set you off, but can't we start from scratch?" Renji responded. "Look, lilies, your favourite."

Rukia sighed, taking the vase and setting it onto the mantle by their fireplace.

"Thank you." She said. Renji's earnestness always caught her off guard.

"You're welcome, now come here," Renji said, crossing the living room to pull Rukia into his arms.

She shook her head with a smirk and lightly pushed past him. "I've got a few things to do before I see Ichigo, I'll be in my study."

Renji watched as his wife disappeared up the steps. Did he do something again? He collapsed onto their couch, and stared at the ceiling. He never fathomed marrying Rukia Kuchiki – let alone raising a child with her. He was happy, he realized. Every time he was away from home he couldn't wait to see his girls again. Yet, lately, something didn't feel right. He and Rukia had been fighting more and more often over god-knows-what. Rukia had been cold, her thoughts elsewhere. It's as if there was something pressing on her mind, and in the usual Kuchiki fashion, Rukia refused to share. He let out a frustrated sigh and wandered to the kitchen, wondering what to make for dinner.

Rukia sat in the soft lamp of her study, she leaned on her desk, back towards the door and staring out into the cool evening. The sky was aglow in bright oranges and pinks chased by a blue and black that seemed to reach into forever. Renji was right, she had to admit to herself, they had been fighting more than usual lately. For some odd reason that she couldn't quite place, he was irritating her. He was sweet and endearing, like a scruffy puppy you adopt from the pound. There was no denying his handsomeness, the safety of his arms… and yet, nothing. No catch in her throat, no tingling when they touch. They say that the spark disappears with time, replaced by a slow burning fire. She picked up the wedding photo on her desk, where was the fire?

Her phone rang, and she saw that Ichigo texted her.

_Your world or mine? _

Rukia had to smile. _Yours. Need a break from mine. _

_See you._

* * *

Ichigo sat at one of the tables in the back of the bar. For a Friday near the suburbs it was quite alive. College kids sat at most of the tables, laughing out loud, with a couple of dates dotting the place here and there. Luckily the booth they frequented was open, and Ichigo started with a light beer. He rarely drank, and it would be impolite to be tipsy before Rukia arrived.

The door rang at another entrance, and Ichigo perked up. _No, not Rukia_, he thought to himself, and he sipped his drink. Far be it for him to be actually excited to see the girl, but lately because of her captain duties and his at the clinic, they had skipped a few of their weekly meetings. Sometimes, they barely spoke, sitting in silence and watching the patrons. Other times, they were knee deep in battle strategy, arguing about whether or not Rukia should have just left Ichigo behind the first night they met.

At that moment the door rang open with another entrance, but Ichigo failed to notice, deep in his thoughts.

"Hey, drunk already?" Rukia asked.

Ichigo nearly jumped out of his seat, and he looked up, meeting eyes that he thought had gotten impossibly more beautiful than he last saw. In that moment, he was suddenly glad that _she_ had found him that night.

"I'm not you," he replied with a smirk.

"Well, of course not," she sat across him, "I can drink you under the table." She smirked, as she waved down a waitress.

He watched her order the drink, noting her casual attire. _Still in dresses_, he said to himself, the dark blue material wrinkling with every move she made.

"Something on your mind?" She asked, noticing what looked like… a longing stare?

Ichigo just shook his head. "How's things going?"

How are they going? Rukia asked herself, looking away trying to figure out that answer herself.

"Renji and I are fighting," and Rukia surprised herself at the answer, wondering why she jumped to something meant to be dredged down the road after a few more glasses.

Ichigo tried to hide his surprise as well, "Aren't you always?" he asked.

There was a pause as the waitress delivered her sake with two cups, and a separate fruity looking cocktail off the menu. She poured the sake thoughtfully and slid one of the cups to Ichigo.

"How are you and Orihime?" She sipped the cocktail and stared up at him.

He shrugged, "Married."

"That's good," Rukia smiled, and she tucked her arms at her chest, getting comfortable. "The kid's been giving you trouble with his powers, I heard."

"Yeah, how the hell do I control the runt?" Ichigo chuckled, placing his now finished beer at the end of the table and taking a sip of the sake.

"That's an impossible question – especially being your kid." Rukia laughed.

"I can't imagine how you two are dealing with yours," Ichigo remarked.

"Ah, but see, she's my kid more than she is Renji's." Rukia quipped.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"She's graceful, respectful... talented. Yours is…"

"Is?"

"Rambunctious, unpredictable, uncontrollable."

Ichigo glared playfully, and Rukia could only laugh.

"Imagine our kid." Ichigo added casually, finishing his sake.

"Well," Rukia started, the cocktail surprisingly already gone, and moving on to the sake herself. "Probably better than yours, she'll have my genes after all."

"Probably," Ichigo said quietly, as he placed his cup on the table with both hands, and he looked– what Rukia felt – straight into her soul.

"Have some more," Rukia said, trying to wash away the moment.

Ichigo said nothing as she poured another glass.

"Tell me, captain Kuchiki, how is the gotei 13 treating you?" Ichigo asked.

"Oh you know, taken for granted…"

The night continued much like this, as the pair caught each other up with weeks of information missed. Rukia couldn't help but notice Ichigo growing more handsome and confident in his mannerisms. His sleeves were rolled at his elbows and she watched as he loosened and removed his tie. His shirt carelessly unbuttoned, his now short hair still sticking out in spikes, and his infamous frown etched in his features. She ached, for some reason, at the thought of missing his smirks.

"Ichika can do kido now!" Rukia exclaimed loudly, as she stripped off her cardigan.

"Oh yeah? Kazui can fucking teleport." Ichigo said in equal volume, slamming his cup on the table.

"He's been teleporting since he was a baby! That's nothing new!" Rukia replied, waving down the waitress for another bottle of sake.

"Oh yeah? Call me when your daughter starts teleporting." Ichigo replied and his words began to slur a little.

"You're drunk." Rukia laughed, the sleeve of her blue dress slipping off her shoulders.

"Impossible," Ichigo replied, absentmindedly reaching over and replacing the sleeve onto Rukia's shoulder.

Ichigo flinched back at his action, and Rukia placed a hand on the shoulder he touched.

"Thanks," Rukia said, uncharacteristically quietly.

Ichigo cleared his throat and looked away, scratching the back of his head, "Yeah."

There was a silence that seemed to linger for ages, and Ichigo finally asked, "Why are you two fighting?"

Rukia sighed, "I don't know, Ichigo." She played with the cup at her fingers, "I love the guy –"

Ichigo felt his chest tighten.

"To be honest, it's like being married to a plank of wood." Rukia replied.

Ichigo's serious face turned into an amused one.

"Don't laugh, it's not funny!"

"I'm sorry, that's what I've been telling you all along!" Ichigo laughed.

Rukia shook her head and smiled.

"He loves you, you know," Ichigo started, once he had taken a breath and sipped his drink.

"I know."

"Is it not enough?" Ichigo asked, looking straight into her eyes.

Rukia sighed, "It is. It's enough."

Ichigo's chest began to ache.

"It's getting late-"

"No, hold on, how are you and Orihime? 'Married' is not a good answer, though it seems like you two are getting along," Rukia smiled.

"We're not fighting," Ichigo said, realizing he couldn't get out of this one.

"Kurosaki, don't tell me you're not appreciating the beauty before you!"

Ichigo laughed, drunken Rukia was always hilarious.

"We haven't had sex in a year."

Rukia sat stunned, drunken Ichigo was always honest.

"Don't look at me like that, I can't help it if I'm busy with work and…"

"But she's Orihime Inoue," Rukia interrupted, genuinely confused.

"You're telling me, that with all the fighting you and Renji have been going through, you're throwing yourself into his arms?"

Rukia visibly withdrew, and stared at her drink.

Ichigo finished the rest of his sake, and waved the waitress over to take the bill.

"You love her, isn't that enough?" Rukia asked.

Ichigo looked back at her and let out a sigh, "It's enough."

Once he had paid for them both, he stood, and helped Rukia out of the booth. Both were teetering out of the bar, which was still busy and noisy. Yet, the silence they shared seemed louder than the room, and louder still in the crisp fall night.

"Where's the gate?" Ichigo asked, as they walked down the street.

"Just down there," she replied, "being captain has its perks." She tripped on a pebble and Ichigo quickly caught her.

"You can't walk," Ichigo laughed, "I'll carry you."

"Screw you!" Rukia exclaimed, shoving him away. "Well, not literally, anyway." She laughed, tipping over again and grabbing Ichigo to right herself.

Ichigo huffed and glared, "Like you're getting any," he kept an arm around her shoulders and this time Rukia didn't push him away.

"I'll have you know – whenever I want, I can get it." Rukia replied triumphantly.

"So can I," Ichigo replied.

"So, why don't you get some?" Rukia asked.

Ichigo stopped and Rukia looked up at his face lit by the streetlights.

"What if it's not from the person I want?"

Rukia stared up at Ichigo in silence, taking a second to digest the information. It required her usually quick mind a second to digest the thought of the disgustingly loyal Ichigo Kurosaki in love with someone that wasn't his wife. "Ichigo," She said seriously and thoughtfully.

"Rukia, hear me out," Ichigo started.

"No." Rukia said, she stepped back and suddenly felt chillingly sober. "You-"

"I was joking," Ichigo interrupted.

Rukia's serious face did not falter, yet she returned to his side, afraid that she would fall over.

"Where the hell is this gate?" Rukia asked no one in particular.

They sat at a bench in what looked like a park, and Ichigo rummaged through her purse, looking for her phone. He pulled it out and handed it to her.

"Shit," Rukia said, reading her texts. "It's gone, how late is it?"

Ichigo glanced at his watch, "2 AM, can you summon another?"

"I could, but I don't think I can properly incant it," Rukia said.

"You could come back to my place," Ichigo said casually, "you're too drunk to even properly read, hell, you squinted at the screen."

Rukia sighed, how irresponsible of her.

"Will Orihime be okay with this?" Rukia asked.

"She thinks we're in Soul Society," Ichigo replied.

Rukia looked suspiciously at Ichigo, "You didn't tell her we were here?"

Ichigo shrugged, "You changed the plan."

"_You _asked!" Rukia let out a frustrated sigh, "Well, you're going to have to explain this to her when we get to your place."

Ichigo shrugged, "Or we could wait until you're more sober to chant your way home."

"What?"

"Think about it," Ichigo said, "If I don't come back alone she probably won't mind, but if you don't get back by tonight, Renji will get suspicious."

"What's there to be suspicious about?" Rukia asked.

"I don't know, it's late, we're drunk, and we're alone."

"Fuck you, Ichigo Kurosaki." Rukia retorted, for drunken Ichigo was far too honest.

Ichigo glared, "Fuck you too! Now get up and get walking, because I told Orihime I'd be home at a certain time and she's probably up waiting."

"What a considerate husband, just a second ago you were seriously implying that you were in love-"

"You know what, you can stay out here I don't care." He pulled out his keys and his car beeped awake.

"Don't do that idiot! It's not safe!" Rukia attempted to swipe his keys.

Despite being drunk, Ichigo was still quick. "Don't be stupid, I'm sleeping in the car, that's easier to explain than bringing you home."

"I seriously don't think Orihime would mind," Rukia said, crossing her arms.

"I would." Ichigo stared down at her in frustration.

Rukia looked up at Ichigo in confusion. "Okay, what the hell is wrong with you? What did I do to you?"

"Just forget it," Ichigo replied.

"No," Rukia exclaimed angrily, she grabbed his arm as he turned away. "We're friends, aren't we?"

He looked at her in a glare, "That's all we are." He pulled his arm out of her grip.

"What do you mean?" Rukia asked.

"I mean, that's literally all we are!" He replied angrily.

"So why the fuck are you so mad?" Rukia asked, his anger lighting hers.

"Because… that can't _be _all we are!" Ichigo breathed hard, suddenly noticing that his heart was racing.

The silence between the two seemed to last centuries. Rukia stared at Ichigo in confusion, her heart racing. Ichigo was livid, his eyes wet with emotion, and she didn't know what to do. She didn't know what she could do. Was it possible that he had been sitting with this for years? She didn't want to think about it.

"Ichigo," Rukia started.

"Forget it." Ichigo said, "Just… forget it." He said in defeat. "Let's walk to my place, I'll call Orihime so she can have a bed ready."

"I'll call Renji," Rukia said, her eyes began to wet. She turned away; Ichigo had never seen her cry. "You go ahead."

Ichigo opened his mouth to say something, but decided instead to just walk away.

"Ichigo," Rukia called out.

He turned, and Rukia was still turned away, "We can't be anything more."

The tension was palpable. Rukia still didn't hear his footsteps receding, and she refused to turn and look for fear of falling apart. Ichigo watched her back and could read nothing. Was it possible she had been thinking about this too? He didn't know what to say, and he so desperately wanted to say _something_.

"Where's Renji?" Ichigo asked, settling on the question as the only appropriate answer.

"I'm not calling him until you've gone," Rukia replied after clearing her throat. She finally turned to face him.

Ichigo swallowed hard, his throat was dry. "Right," At this, he turned and walked away.

* * *

A/N: Somebody save me from these two.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Ichigo arrived to a dimly lit bedroom. Inoue looked up from her phone and let out a small laugh.

"Did you two have a good time?" She began to help Ichigo undress, but only got to the last button of his shirt when Ichigo decided to collapse onto their bed.

Inoue joined him, and snuggled as close as Ichigo would let her – which was difficult because he was prone with his arm and leg dangling off the bed. She eventually retreated, giving him a kiss on the head and settling into her own side of the bed.

Ichigo couldn't sleep that night.

* * *

Rukia arrived home tempted to collapse in a heap at the front door. However, Renji was with her, kindly guiding her through the house. He made jokes about how a captain shouldn't drink this much and Rukia could only reply with a tired glare. Eventually, much to Rukia's protests, Renji carried her up the stairs and into bed. He tucked her in still fully dressed in the clothing she had worn out and he joined her in his boxers.

"Thank you," Rukia's voice muffled into a pillow.

"Of course," the smile could be heard in his voice. "Ichigo this drunk too?"

Rukia shuffled to reposition herself in the sheets away from Renji, "Yeah," she hoped.

Rukia paced her office, waiting impatiently for her visitor. She perked up when she heard quick steps drawing nearer. The sliding doors opened to reveal Ichigo in his shihakusho – a sight she hadn't seen in years, and now that he had grown into it…

"You're here," Ichigo said, quickly shutting the door behind him.

"Yes, now what is this emergency?" Rukia asked, "I'd hoped to notify more people but if-"

"Shut up," Ichigo said, stepping closer to her.

"Ichigo?" She asked, confused, looking up at him.

Before she could stop him, he had pulled her into his arms, his lips tracing her shoulder and neck. Rukia let out a pleased shudder. He took a moment to search for consent in her eyes, and when she leaned in, Ichigo's lips met hers in fiery passion. A hand traveled down her back, while another slowly loosened the ties of her robes.

Suddenly he shook her, "Captain Kuchiki!"

Rukia looked at him in surprise as Ichigo disappeared abruptly and she found herself blinking at one of the officers.

"Hanataro!" Rukia exclaimed, clearing her throat and tidying her hair. "I-"

"It's okay Kuchiki-san," Hanataro smiled genuinely, "you must be tired, I'm only waking you to deliver this."

He held up a fancily decorated basket to Rukia.

"Ah, yes," Rukia received it still in a daze. "What's this for?"

"Kurosaki," Hanataro said, "It had been a while since I spoke to him, so the fourth division decided to put together a care package."

"The fourth division or you?" Rukia asked with a smirk.

"Mostly me," Hanataro laughed, red in embarrassment. "But don't tell him – he won't accept it otherwise."

"He'll get it tonight, thanks Hanataro," Rukia said kindly, standing to escort him to her door.

"That's good," Hanataro replied, "its perfect timing; it seems you were dreaming about him too." He laughed.

"What?" Rukia's looked at him in surprise, "What do you mean?"

"You were saying his name in your sleep," Hanataro replied, "Anyway; I'll see you around, thanks again."

Rukia closed the door once Hanataro had disappeared from her view. She looked at the care basket and found herself blushing at the thought of potentially seeing Ichigo that night. The dream replayed in her head over and over again in the same moments: that look he gave her, his hands. She put a hand to her head, and let out a deep breath. Just a dream, she told herself, it doesn't mean anything. She sat on her chair, staring at the present. What else was there besides being friends?

* * *

Inoue noticed that Ichigo spent the day in a daze. She realized it when Kazui had to remind his father to read him his bedtime story and the proper way to tuck him in. It was hard to tell based on their child though, who was surprisingly particular about his bedtime routines.

"Let mommy do it!" He whined, taking the book from Ichigo's hand and rushing over to his mother.

"It's okay, I'll take over from here," Inoue said, taking Kazui's hand gently and tucking him into bed.

Ichigo only nodded and kissed his son good night, then retreated into the clinic downstairs. She watched as he descended the stairs in silence. He had been strange ever since the night he returned home from drinks with Rukia, and Inoue couldn't help but wonder about what had happened.

Ichigo slipped on a sweater and his sneakers. He wasn't one to wander at night, but for some reason he had taken a liking to it these days. In the past he would patrol the entire city each night in his shinigami form, but as hollow activity receded after the winter war there was no longer any reason to exhaust his spiritual energy. He settled for the late night walks, finding lately that his house felt suffocating.

He took a moment to look up at the building. Ichigo and Inoue had both decided to renovate the place to fit a large family, seeing that his siblings lived there part time and with Kazui and Inoue now taking residence, the upstairs apartment began to shrink. For some reason, Ichigo couldn't touch his room. It stayed more or less the same since he was a teenager, and ever since Kazui was born he didn't see any reason to use it anymore. Kon used to say it held too many memories of Rukia, Ichigo never voiced it but he internally agreed.

"You're out late." A familiar voice behind him sounded.

Ichigo turned and was surprised to see Rukia in her shinigami robes smiling politely.

"I hoped to catch you before bedtime, but it looks like it doesn't matter now."

He closed the distance between them, to receive the basket she was holding.

"Hanataro," Rukia said, "and the fourth division wanted to give you a care package."

"Delivered by a captain, no less," Ichigo took the package and placed it onto the ground.

"Well, you're still sort of a legend, though I wouldn't let that get to my head," Rukia replied, crossing her arms.

"You're here," Ichigo said in a near whisper.

Rukia was caught off guard at the statement; she looked away and fiddled with the scarf around her neck. "It's just a delivery, I'm not staying long."

"Thanks for the delivery," Ichigo said, picking up the basket.

"Good night, Ichigo," She smiled, and she began to walk away.

Ichigo watched as she leisurely left. He turned to put the basket away in the clinic quickly and he exited his body, leaving it lying on the couch.

Rukia felt the surge of power and let out a frustrated sigh. She heard his footsteps coming closer and he eventually fell into pace beside her.

"Isn't it a school night?" Rukia asked, "Go home, Ichigo."

"I'm free. Besides, tomorrow's actually the weekend." Ichigo said. "Fancy a patrol, captain?" He smirked.

Rukia shook her head with a smile, "Hard to say no since you asked so politely."

They shunpo-ed along the trees and challenged each other with their speeds, Rukia watched as Ichigo bounded before her, disappearing from her line of sight. He returned beside her just as easily, playfully threatening to knock her over mid stride. She laughed and shoved him back, landing on the nearest rooftop a little out of breath. Ichigo landed beside her and they looked out into the city.

"What happened the other night, Ichigo?" Rukia asked.

Ichigo looked at her, surprised at her forward question. "Nothing happened."

"We're married, we've got kids and we've got careers. It's an era of peace."

Ichigo stayed silent, waiting for Rukia to finish her lecture, as he had so learned to do over the years.

"What's going on with you, what was with the question the other day? Of course we can't be more than friends, we-"

"Of course not," Ichigo said, "You with your rules and your career…"

"What?" Rukia was astonished at his accusatory tone.

"We _had a chance_," Ichigo started.

Rukia was bewildered. "Are you drunk?"

"I wish I were." Ichigo stood before her, tall and so uncharacteristically open – a man, so unlike the child she had met. "If I were drunk I could tell you how you never left my mind, and how every now and then this wave of aching pain drowns me."

"Poetry, Ichigo?"

"Stop it. Stop with the fucking sarcasm and listen to me."

Rukia glared at his rudeness, but let him speak.

"Every year, I remember what a pain in the ass it was to meet you. I remember what a pain in the ass it was a save you. I realize what a pain in the ass it is to not see you every day."

"We're married."

"And so we are," Ichigo said, "and I'll be honest, I never imagined ending up here, I thought battle would kill me before I saw this day."

Rukia couldn't say anything, she watched him pace a few steps.

"That night when we met in the bar," Ichigo started, "You said to me that you were pregnant."

Rukia clutched her arm, and retreated as he neared.

"What the fuck, Rukia? What happened? Where the hell did that come from?" Ichigo demanded. "Only a little over a year after the war… I was still having nightmares; you and I were still fresh from… from whatever mess we had to clean up."

"You don't get to be angry at me!" Rukia exploded, pushing Ichigo away. "Anyone could see that Orihime was madly in love with you, you stupid fool – I only assumed…"

"You _assumed_?" Ichigo asked. "Rukia, you were the only person that was keeping me sane!" He matched her tone.

"And what happens afterwards Ichigo? After we wake up from licking each other's wounds and see that I belong in another world entirely and you still had a life to live? We wake up and we argue over stupid shit every day and grow to hate each other?" Rukia asked.

"We are not you and Renji."

Rukia's face displayed one of hurt and pain, and Ichigo could only maintain a frustrated face.

"How dare you." Rukia said.

"So what, when it looked like we wouldn't work out, you fuck your best friend?"

Rukia glared at him, "Yes, that one off chance… the one time Renji and I share a bed and I end up pregnant? Do you think I fucking planned that? Do you think I even realized that I was fertile after that stupid piece of rock Aizen put inside me? Fuck you!" She began to walk away.

"And now you're going to run?" Ichigo asked, "You know I can catch you, I'm the fastest shinigami alive."

"You're the _only _shinigami alive," Rukia exclaimed. "And – if you were so heart broken by my pregnancy how the hell did you have a kid with Orihime less than a year later?"

"Don't tell me you forgot." Ichigo replied.

Rukia stopped, turning to look at him, "Oh please, remind me."

"You stopped talking to me entirely." Ichigo replied. "Something about being a parent, me becoming a doctor and focusing on school."

Rukia remembered. That year was a whirlwind. Byakuya's reaction to the pregnancy was far from pleased, though most times it was hard to tell what he thought of things. Renji had proposed and Rukia couldn't say no, realizing how important it would be for her daughter to have a father.

"Tell me how you would feel if the next thing you heard about your best friend was when her fiancé asks you to be at the ceremony."

Rukia's fierce air fell; she had nothing to say and watched as Ichigo sat on the ground. The smell of an impending storm lingered in the wind that passed between them.

"How did you feel?"

Ichigo buried his head in hands for a moment, and then rubbed his face. "Bad enough to go looking for someone else," he looked up at her with a face of sorrow.

Rukia turned away; she was always sensitive to Ichigo's pained faces. "When Orihime told me she was pregnant with your child, I was overjoyed. How wonderful, I thought, for Ichigo not to be alone."

Ichigo didn't say anything, still sitting on the rooftop, staring at his feet.

"I cried all night." Rukia said, sitting beside Ichigo. "There was this... gnawing pain in my chest, I felt like I could throw up."

Ichigo looked at her, as she turned away, eyes down cast as if trying not to cry.

"Renji asked what was wrong, and I could barely reply." She wiped the few tears that escaped away quickly with her robes.

"You should have seen me after your wedding." Ichigo laughed, swallowing the pain at the sight of her tears. Such a fierce woman suddenly so delicate, Ichigo wondered if he should have said anything at all. "I was a mess."

Rukia laughed gently, and Ichigo smiled.

"It's too late," Rukia said.

At this, Ichigo stood with a stretch.

"It is getting late. Inoue will wonder where I am." He turned, facing Rukia with a frown. "I'll see you around, captain Kuchiki."

Rukia nodded, dusting herself off as she stood.

"Good night, Ichigo."

* * *

Rukia woke the next morning with wet eyes. She looked at herself in confusion in the mirror, wondering if she had cried in her sleep. The sight at the breakfast table told her that yes, in fact she had. She knew because Renji had set out a feast full of her favourite foods. She let out a soft smile.

"What's this?" She asked, as she sat down.

"For you," Renji said with a confident smirk. "Ichika's already gone to her weekend activities with Captain Kuchiki, so it's you and I for the day." He busied himself with filling her plate: waffles, fruits of all kinds.

"Thank you," Rukia said, as Renji pulled her head in to kiss it.

"Everything okay, though? You were crying quite a bit last night. It's been a while since, I couldn't hear what you were mumbling but you were sobbing." Renji said, looking at her seriously.

Rukia shrugged, unable to fully recall what had thrown her into such despair. She poked at her plate, and eventually started on one corner of fruits.

"No strawberries?" Rukia asked as they were her favourite fruit.

"Oh- I didn't even realize, I'm sorry, I'll pick some up later tonight." Renji smiled, filling her mug with coffee.

"That's okay," She replied, she picked up his hand as he set the coffee pot down. "You're sweet, sometimes." Rukia kissed Renji's hand, and Renji responded by pulling her into his big arms.

"I want you to be happy," Renji said into her hair. He breathed in her scent and gave her another kiss, "Above all things, you deserve to be happy."

Rukia felt tears tug at her eyes.

How dare she dream of other men, worse, of married men?

* * *

Kazui waved goodbye to his mother as Ichigo escorted the child to soul society. The first of his kind, Kazui was receiving special instruction from Urahara and Yoruichi at the Shiba estate, as they believed that his reiatsu would be easier to control in an environment where it flowed most naturally. This morning was special as the third weekend of the month meant that Kazui would be training with Ichika. He looked forward to seeing his friend, as his friends on earth found it difficult to understand his education.

"Are we seeing auntie?" Kazui asked, looking up at his dad in excitement. "Mama asked me to give her some fresh strawberry shortcake!"

Ichigo returned the child's grin with a soft smile. "Of course, make sure you keep that safe."

Kazui hummed happily as they walked into the green fields of the Shiba household. He raced towards Ichika's form and surprised her with a tickle. The young girl turned and laughed, chasing Kazui with shrieks and giggles.

"No Rukia today," Ganju stated simply, side-eyeing Ichigo.

"That's not the only reason I'm here." Ichigo said.

"Sure."

Ichigo had to admit that he searched for her form. The fields were so familiar, the wind echoing a time when losing her was so close, and finding her so exhilarating. They never spoke about it. Ichigo was too young to fully comprehend the situation, let alone articulate his feelings. And Rukia… she was probably aware, but probably felt indebted more than in love.

_Love,_ eh?

Ichigo had to take a deep breath. He didn't realize that he had stopped breathing, staring at the green dazed and in another time.

"Papa, papa!" Kazui exclaimed, "Look what Ichika can do!"

Ichigo walked over to the pair, and Ichika created a very small, bright, glowing ball of kido.

"That's great!" Ichigo replied, squatting before the pair. "I can't do that, maybe you can teach us."

Kazui plopped to the ground, and pulled his father down as well. Ichigo smiled and sat back with Kazui as Ichika began a longwinded retelling of the history of kido.

"Aw man, skip that boring stuff!" Kazui interrupted.

"No! Mama says it's extremely important to know where something came from to know how to use it now!"

"That doesn't even make sense. If you're gonna tell a story, tell a good one!"

Ichika glared, "Fine, I'm not teaching you!"

"Papa that's not fair!" Kazui, at 6 years old, was still inclined to cry for things he wanted – and so he did.

"What a baby!" Ichika laughed.

"Kazui," Ichigo started in a stern voice, "You must respect your teachers." Kazui hiccupped, glaring at Ichika. Ichigo patted Kazui on the head. "And Ichika, you must teach from where your students can understand - that's how your mama taught me."

Ichika and Kazui turned to Ichigo with impossibly curious faces, "She taught _you_?"

"But you're so much stronger than auntie!" Kazui exclaimed.

"Nuh-uh! Mama is a captain, and captains are way stronger." Ichika crossed her arms and beamed with pride.

"What's this now?" Rukia interrupted.

Ichigo looked up and his heart skipped a beat (surprise?).

"Are you two making things hard for this guy?" Renji added, catching up to Rukia carrying a basket of what looked like food.

Ichigo stood to meet the pair, laughing as Renji playfully punched him on the arm.

"Long time no see." Ichigo smirked.

"Tell him papa, mama is stronger because she's a captain!" Ichika exclaimed, pulling at Renji's garb.

"Yes, mama is stronger than Ichigo." Renji said, picking Ichika up. "You should have seen how your mama would beat sense into him."

"Beat?" Ichika asked. "Oh, like in battle!"

"That's exactly it," Rukia smirked at Ichigo.

Ichigo cleared his throat and looked away.

Rukia responded with a slightly concerned look, which disappeared once she noticed Kazui in the corner with a glowing orb floating from his fingers.

"Ah, it seems talent wins again." Rukia crossed her arms in amusement, and watched as Ichigo joyfully congratulated his son.

"Amazing!" He scooped Kazui up into his arms, and Kazui beamed.

Rukia imagined that Ichigo probably looked as innocent as a kid, beaming at his mother as Tatsuki would always describe him.

"Ichika, make sure to teach him how to lengthen the spell." Rukia said, as she watched Ichika high five Kazui from her own father's arms.

"Yes mama!" Ichika wriggled out of Renji's arms, and pulled Kazui down. The adults watch them run into the dojo gleefully.

Rukia followed suit, with Ichigo and Renji trailing behind.

"One moment, Rukia, take the basket, I've got to talk to Ichigo for a second." Rukia received the basket, and Renji's hands lingered on her shoulder. She shook her head at him with a smirk, and walked away.

"Something wrong?" Ichigo asked.

"Yes." Renji started, crossing his arms. "Rukia's been saying your name in her sleep, crying."

Ichigo was taken aback. "What-"

"What happened between you two?" Renji asked, looking straight into Ichigo's eyes.

Ichigo couldn't think of anything to say. Rukia crying? Rukia dreaming about him? He felt sickened with the guilty happiness bubbling in his chest. He did his best to hide the disgusting ache to race to her and see how she would react to the information. Did she even know that she was dreaming of him, too?

"The last time this happened was after the winter war… I'm concerned that something's triggered it."

"Triggered it?"

"I think it's you." Renji said seriously, hand to his chin in thought. "Whenever you meet, she does this."

Ichigo waited.

"I think you should stop seeing each other." Renji finished, crossing his arms again, his extra few inches leering over Ichigo.

If anyone were to tell him that the same person could inadvertently break his heart twice, Ichigo wouldn't believe it. The fact that it was Renji that shared the information which shattered his chest both times was insulting irony.

"I agree," Ichigo swallowed the bowling ball of pain threatening to explode out of his chest and throat.

Renji let out a relieved smile, patting Ichigo on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Ichigo. Thanks for listening and helping me out."

Ichigo smirked, "This better be the last time, you're running up a tab, man."

Renji laughed, "Yeah, yeah. Let me know if you need someone to babysit, I'll help you out with baby number 2."

Ichigo couldn't help but curse the gods at that moment as Renji somehow unleashed the ghosts he so carefully shut away for months.

"We gotta cut it short," Rukia said, as she gently pulled Kazui along. "Someone didn't follow instructions and got too eager."

Kazui, eyes red from sobbing appeared from behind Rukia with his hand wrapped in a bandage.

"What did you do, kid?" Ichigo stooped to assess the damage.

"First degree burns, nothing that won't heal quickly. I did what I could, but him being human-"

"Thanks," Ichigo said, picking up his son gently. "We'll get going now."

"But – the picnic-"

Ichigo smiled sadly, not even looking at Rukia.

"Say goodbye, Kazui," Ichigo said.

The 6 year old sniffled and waved with his good hand. Ichika waved with a forlorn look, watching her favourite playmate disappear into the gate.

* * *

A/N: agh, jeez.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The days dragged on for Ichigo. It didn't help that his home was full of so many memories of Rukia. At times, he'd find himself sitting in his old room, eyes on the closet across him and let his mind wander. He'd wonder what it would be like if he opened the door and Rukia was hiding inside and catching her terrible scribbling on his notes. He'd reach in and attempt to remove the sheets from her hands then she'd slip easily past him, her petite frame lending to her agility, and she'd laugh. The ache in his chest was unmistakable, and yet he couldn't get enough. He envisioned her down the hall, hair wet from a shower, pyjamas that were finally hers, her smell lingering in his spare futon. The only connection he felt to her was in missing her, he'd let the memories visit over and over, despite the pain, the tears, and the yearning.

* * *

A few nights later, Inoue found Ichigo staring out of their dark bedroom window clad in nothing but his boxers. Inoue noted that he appeared to have been mid-change, his clothes for the day sprawled on the floor with his night shirt balled up in his left hand. She watched his face lit by the streetlights. He seemed to stare beyond whatever was outside the window. Where was he, she wondered, fighting the monsters in his head again?

She wrapped her arms around his lean frame, resting her fingers on his bare chest as she kissed his back. Inoue felt him sigh and he turned to face her. She leaned up to kiss him, and for the first time in a while, he met her lips. Ichigo pulled her closer, and easily lifted her and placed her onto their bed. Inoue was scared to let go, afraid that if she did, his attention would never return to her. As Ichigo slipped her night gown off, he watched as she breathed out a contented sigh. He hovered over her slender frame, his fingers traced along her neck and down her arm slowly.

Inoue was more eager, as they had hardly shared anything beyond a polite peck on the cheek for months; she reached out to touch him and guide him back to her lips. Ichigo pulled back, running a hand through his hair.

"Ichigo?" She asked gently, reaching to take his hand.

In the dark, she couldn't see it clearly but she could hear Ichigo's laboured breathing.

"What's wrong?" She asked, pulling on her nightgown.

He stood, and began to collect his clothes. "I'm sorry, just… not tonight, okay Hime?"

He rarely used her name in regular situations, but when shortened, Inoue knew that he was being polite. She watched him leave, and listened to the front door shut followed by his footsteps.

She sat in the dark and gathered the sheets around herself. Inoue began to cry. What in the world was that? Was she not enough for him? What else could she do? He was slipping away in every moment, every distant gaze – what was he looking for? What was he looking _at_? Not her, in all certainty.

That realization hit Inoue like a ton of bricks. Oh god, she begged internally, as silent sobs escaped her chest. She covered her mouth, afraid to wake Kazui with her distress. Short of throwing herself at him, she was patient, compassionate, timing everything at Ichigo's pace. Ten bloody years and he still… he still wouldn't see her.

Inoue fell into an uneasy sleep. Whenever she woke, it was with tears, and to fall asleep, it took more. Every breath was a struggle, and the truth weighed on her – he didn't love her.

* * *

Ichigo let out a sigh, watching his breath cloud in front of him. He was relishing the feel of the ice cold air entering his lungs, and breathing out the same stale ache that rotted in his chest. He wandered around his neighbourhood for a bit, revisiting the corner where Rukia pierced his chest, walking down the streets they ran along chasing hollows to rescue spirits. He let out a sad smile at the thought of her perched on his back, barking orders, and how he loathed her in those moments. He glanced at the river where she attempted to train her with a baseball bat, and he felt a chuckle escape his lips at all the times they argued. He passed their high school and he clenched the hand she always took and dragged to the next emergency that only they could solve. Their duties a secret they shared, the moments of life and death only they bore witness for each other… his head on her lap.

He found himself at Uryuu's apartment. Again, he realized, he had slipped into the past, and so easily lost himself in it. He raised a fist to knock on the door, hesitated for a moment as he eyed the watch on his now exposed wrist, then knocked nonetheless.

Uryuu was always a light sleeper. Night rotations made this even more difficult, and he rose from a light snooze to the sound of the door. A quick glance at the analog on his wall and even he thought it was too early for anything human on the other side of that door. He clicked on the tiny monitor beside his door, and was surprised to see his friend.

"Ichigo." Uryuu said calmly, as he opened the door for his dark eyed friend. "What's going on?"

Ichigo walked into the apartment, kicked off his shoes and crashed onto the couch in silence. He hid his face with his hands.

"Kurosaki. It's three in the morning and I deserve some form of explanation."

"Did you know?" Ichigo asked, his voice muffled.

"Know what?" Uryuu sat across him, an expression of half annoyance and concern gracing his sharp features.

"How Inoue became pregnant, do you know?"

"If you're asking me _how _you impregnated her, I know. If you're asking me _why_, I had my suspicions." Uryuu replied tactfully.

Ichigo looked at him with tired eyes. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Uryuu looked at Ichigo in disdain. Say what? He thought. Stop fucking around with Inoue's feelings? Stop pretending you're fine without Rukia when every god damn chance you get to see her, you're a totally different person? Why the hell was he responsible for saying anything, when he had to watch the girl he loved pine after someone who barely appreciated her?

"You don't get to blame other people for your short-sightedness. And now, look what you've done: married with child – the both of you." Uryuu sighed as he stood, retreating to his kitchen to prepare some coffee.

"I never thought," Ichigo began, "I never thought she'd feel the same. All this time, I was repaying a favour –"

"That's your basic problem, you never think. You just do." Uryuu interrupted, setting the hot mug down in front of Ichigo. "We're all left watching the two of you prance around each other, hurting feelings that you had no right to abuse all because of the holy "friendship"."

Ichigo glared at Uryuu.

"You know," Ichigo said, as he picked up the mug. "They were drunk. Celebrating the end of the winter war, and at that point, I think I was busy taking care of whatever unanswered questions I owed everyone here."

Uryuu sipped his coffee in silence, allowing Ichigo to vent.

"I didn't realize you could lose someone to someone else." Ichigo stared at his mug. "Two years."

"For the record, Kurosaki, I'm not on your side. I'm on Inoue's. I want her to be happy." Uryuu said, setting down his own mug. "If you need my couch, you're welcome. But I'm not giving you a key until you've decided what to do."

"We're married." Ichigo muttered.

"You've gone against bigger, more dangerous obstacles than that." Uryuu replied.

* * *

Renji's bloodshot eyes stung from lack of sleep. He lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling in the dark. Rukia didn't kick him out, which is what usually lands him on the couch, this time, he left their room. She was tossing and turning in her sleep, crying softly. She was whispering his name again, and Renji had had enough. He thought that it would pass at this point, that the dreams would cease again, as they once did. But it seemed, these were stronger than before, and although Renji loved Rukia to pieces – his heart couldn't take the jealousy. A man could only listen to his wife say another's name during the most intimate times of night for so long.

What if, and this may be pulling at nothing – something actually happened that night that the two of them didn't want to share? Renji sat, frowning in the dark. He trusted the two of them entirely with his life, but he also wasn't stupid.

Rukia woke that morning with the bed beside her empty. For a moment, she breathed a sigh of relief, hoping that maybe Renji was called away to a mission overnight. The whole night she dreamt of Ichigo, their moments, his face, flashes of their past flickering beneath her sleeping eyelids. The dreams settled on his wedding night, and how Rukia refused to notice his apprehension, the insincerity lingering behind his smile. She touched at the corners of her eyes, and noticed the salt of her dried tears trailing her cheeks – was she crying, again?

"Good morning," Renji said, standing at the doorway with a cup of coffee. Rukia let out another sigh.

"All night?" She asked, resting a hand on her head.

Renji didn't say anything and closed the distance between them, setting the coffee on their bedside table. Rukia recognized this silence as one borne from a long night of thinking, bags under his eyes, worry in his brows, and that defensive frown.

"We needed to talk about this eventually." Renji began. "I asked Ichigo not to see you anymore."

Rukia looked at Renji in surprise – had she been this obvious? _Wait_, she thought, _obvious about what? _

"Renji-"

"He's triggering you, Rukia," Renji said, deciding to feign obliviousness, "After your meetings, you fall apart like last night. I can't stand by having noticed this."

"And Ichigo?"

"He agreed, and he'll be okay. Better probably. I agreed to pick up Kazui for shinigami training; he agreed not to contact you unless it's through me."

Rukia gazed down at the sheets on her lap in silence. Renji stood again, and left the room. Monday morning routines awaited them both: Ichika to be woken, breakfast to be made, work to be attended. She clutched at the sheets, tears pelting the thread, upon realizing that Renji didn't trust either of them anymore and wondering when her feelings had become so out of control.

Once she collected herself (and heard the sound of Renji leaving the house), she readied herself to drop Ichika off at school. Rukia pulled on her uniform with ease, her fingers feeling not quite like hers, her face in the mirror the ghost of someone she knew – so pale, so sad, and so tired. She drew a breath in, realizing that she felt light headed – maybe not enough sleep?

Breathe, Rukia. She reminded herself, as she waved Ichika goodbye. Breathe, she reminded herself, as she sat through a captain's meeting trying her best to avoid her brother's stare. She felt the motions of breath, but when her chest expanded, there was an incessant ache. Every breath was the reminder of a gaping wound, tender, _missing_.

When she dropped Ichika off at the Kaiba dojo, the wind hit her a certain way and the grass swayed in the field beckoning her to feel. She walked into the field, pushed her hair off of her face and felt what was missing. Ichigo Kurosaki – she had told him not to follow her, that she would never forgive him… because if he did, she would never forget him. The feelings echoed in the expanse of her wound, the thought of seeing him only in the face of his child clutched at her throat.

She was ready for this, in that ivory tower, that disgusting red leash on her neck. History and karma surely are twin sisters – mocking people with the circles they dance around them. Rukia Kuchiki, born of nobility, let out a shaky breath, she could learn to live with this. He was not hers, and she was not his.

* * *

Ichigo returned to a quiet house. He had closed the clinic for the day, hoping for some reprieve from the guilt and the heartache hanging over his head.

An uneasy sleep fell over him, the exhaustion finally catching up to his body… and he dreamt.

The smell of fire filled his nostrils. The wool material of the cape so graciously shared to him from Urahara draped around his shoulders, fluttering in the wind. Sword at his back, he shifted it for comfort, and he waited. He watched as she let a few tears go, a face of serenity, of no regrets, her life so willingly given for a stranger. And when nothing happened, she opened her eyes to look at him.

They exchanged a few words in silence, and although it was years ago, it was so clear. The fury, the fight, the purpose: for her, save her… love her?

Ichigo woke to darkness having settled in the house, a quick glance at his phone telling him it was evening. Fall made the days shorter, and he could feel winter permeate their rooms. Where were Inoue and Kazui? All the same, he hadn't planned to stay long. Now that he was awake, the dream continued in sobering reality, the actual memories played in his head like a movie. He wondered if he ever knew what he felt; that if he wasn't so up in his ass about owing people would he have realized his feelings sooner? Would this have been easier on her? Renji said that she was crying in her sleep – did she do that too after the war? He tried to ignore the sickening wave of jealousy at the thought of Renji collecting Rukia into his arms in the darkness of their bedroom, her tears on his chest, and his lips on her head.

Doesn't matter now, he thought, we're no longer to keep contact. He let out a sigh, as he buried his head in his hands. He heard the jingle of keys, and the sound of his son telling his mother about his classes.

"I really liked the science class, we were learning about the human body which is what papa takes care of right mommy?"

"That's correct, darling. Now help mommy open the door." Inoue said.

At this, Ichigo opened the door, and Kazui beamed.

"Papa!" He exclaimed, crashing into his father's legs. "We went groceries, and mommy said we should get your favourites."

Inoue let Ichigo collect the bags from her hands. The family walked to the kitchen and together put everything away, Kazui leading the conversations. Once finished, he raced to his room to play, leaving his parents to have tea in the dining area.

"Where'd you go last night?" Inoue asked.

"Uryuu's," he replied, "just needed to talk about some things."

"Oh?" Inoue replied. She watched as he sipped from his mug.

"Rukia and I aren't going to see each other anymore." Ichigo said, "Renji said it's too triggering. Do you agree?"

Inoue sighed; above all Ichigo was considerate at the expense of his desires. "Yes."

Ichigo expected that answer, and he nodded in agreement. He watched as she fiddled with the handle of her mug. He noticed the bags under her eyes and it occurred to him that she cried herself to sleep last night. In that moment, he reached for her hand, and Inoue looked up at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've been a mess lately."

"It's alright," she replied, placing her free hand on his and lightly tracing his fingers.

He frowned, "It's not, Hime. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Inoue looked up at Ichigo, "Let's make love."

* * *

Renji's hands pulled off Rukia's uniform with ease. She watched as he fondled her bare chest, lips on her neck, and glanced at the door to make sure it was locked even though it was nearly the middle of the night and there was barely anyone around in the division. Renji lifted Rukia from the window sill where they were previously situated and onto the couch nearby. It had been a while, Rukia realized, doing her best to enjoy the moment as Renji kissed her passionately. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her harder.

Renji didn't want to pause, they both spent the week without a word from Ichigo, and he didn't want to give her mind a chance to wander. My god, she was beautiful, sprawled naked underneath him, still so slender, so petite and so open. He slipped off the last of his garments and slid into her. She let out a soft moan as he did so, and bit her lip – a habit that drove Renji wild, in and out of the bedroom.

Rukia let Renji do the work, his large hands on her waist, holding her in place as he thrust harder each time. Rukia held onto his arms as he ravaged her, rougher than his usual, she thought that maybe all the stress from the past few weeks were being released now. He took a breath, paused for a moment, to look her in the eyes and say, "I love you."

Rukia pushed against his chest, and he understood that as a request to switch positions. She straddled him and he placed his hands on her butt, watched as they climaxed together. He always loved the way she took control, and he was eager to please her. She collapsed onto him, and he held her tightly.

Ichigo was no longer here, Renji thought maybe they could go back to how they were before in the comfortable friendship, the laughter.

"You're mine," he sighed one more time.

Rukia closed her eyes, listening to his breathing, and ignoring the pain in her heart, "I am your wife, after all."

* * *

In the dark of their bedroom, after having Kazui tucked in and confirming that he was sleeping soundly, Ichigo was deep inside Inoue. She clutched the sheets beneath her and let out nearly inaudible moans, mindful to not wake the child in the other room. Ichigo picked her up, and sat back; and she continued to ride him. He sucked on her breasts, both hands on her waist and back for support as she set the pace. He watched her closely, long ginger hair in pieces over her shoulders, eyes clothes, mouth slightly open, soft skin pale in the moonlight. Beautiful, he thought.

Inoue enjoyed his eyes on her; amber eyes that she thought would be lost to her forever. Watch me, she thought, remember what you have. She paused to take his face into her hands and kissed him. She wasn't Rukia, she knew that, but she'd fight where she could. She'd have him where she could, he was her husband after all.

Ichigo flipped them both over and for the first time in a while, watching his wife enjoy him. He felt a relief wash over him with orgasm, and Inoue's smile.

He was still here, she thought, he was still hers.

"I love you," she said, as he collapsed beside her.

There was a pause as Ichigo gathered his thoughts, he ignored the ache in his chest and replied, "I love you too."

Ichigo was greeted by morning, he gently removed Inoue's arm from across his chest. She settled into her side of the bed almost immediately, tugging the sheets along with her. She had a contented face on, and Ichigo was glad she was getting a good sleep. He on the other hand, couldn't lie still any longer. He barely slept that night, and all he could think about was how immensely he missed Rukia. Rather than sleep, he played the night's events in his head as if he were with Rukia.

_Dirty,_ sounded the hollow in his head.

Ichigo let out a pained sigh. He checked briefly on Kazui, who was still asleep. He slipped on his shoes and decided to go for a walk. The brisk air chilled his breath into small puffs of cloud as he began to pick up pace.

* * *

What did it mean to be a wife to Rukia Kuchiki?

She watched as her husband pick up their discarded robes off the floor. His muscular back, and tattoos so familiar moving with him as he pulled on his clothes.

Was it dedication? Was it loyalty? Could she stay in sickness and health, until death parted them?

He gave her a kiss on the cheek as he helped her off the couch. They tidied the room, and slid the door shut behind them. She waited by the door as he did a quick pass to check on the offices for any stragglers that weren't assigned that night. He returned, and she watched as he leisurely returned to her side, grabbing her hand. A mountain of a man, she thought.


End file.
